The conference focuses its attention on craving, desire, and addiction,
as these are among the most pressing causes of human suffering. By
bringing contemplative practitioners and scholars from Buddhist and
Christian traditions together with a broad array of scientific
researchers in the fields of desire and addiction, hopefully new
understandings will arise that may ultimately lead to improved treatment
of the root causes of craving and its many manifestations.

Here are the list and associations of this year's participants:

TENZIN GYATSO, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama

KENT BERRIDGE, PHD, James Olds Collegiate Professor of Psychology and Neuroscience, Department of Psychology, University of Michigan

A computer simulation of a gas cloud passing near the supermassive black hole at the center of the Milky Way, and the gravitational effects on the cloud. ESO/MPE/Marc Schartmann

No known object in existence has as clear a division between “inside” and “outside” as a black hole. We live and see the outside, and no probe will bring us information about the inside. We can send radio messages or robotic spacecraft, but once they cross over into a black hole’s interior, we’ll never get back those emissaries…or any information about what happened to them.The boundary of a black hole is its event horizon. It’s not a surface in the usual sense—there’s no physical barrier—but it’s very much a real thing. Outside the horizon, an object can escape the black hole’s gravitational pull if it’s moving sufficiently fast; inside, it would need to move faster than light-speed, something forbidden by the laws of nature. In a meaningful sense, a black hole is its event horizon, since we can’t observe anything inside it by any method. The interior is nature’s biggest secret, enshrouded by a barrier that lets everything in but nothing out. To make black holes even more enigmatic, they are also perfectly featureless, according to general relativity, our best explanation of how gravity works. They may be born from situations as different as the deaths of stars and the gravitational collapse of huge amounts of gas in the early Universe, but the result is the same. Even the chemical composition of what gets sucked into and forms it is irrelevant. The only properties a black hole exhibits to the wider cosmos are its mass and how fast it’s rotating. This result is puckishly known as the “no-hair theorem”: Whatever is going on in the interior, no “hair” sticks out of the event horizon. (The name was coined by prominent physicist John Archibald Wheeler, obviously not a man sensitive about a receding hairline.) That theorem presents a challenging conundrum: We don’t know whether a black hole actually deletes its autobiography, “forgetting” its past and its progenitor’s composition, or preserves it somehow in a way we don’t know yet. If that information is destroyed, it’s a violation of one of the principles of quantum mechanics; if it’s preserved, it requires a theory beyond general relativity. The interior of a black hole isn’t merely a an inaccessible region of the cosmos. It’s a laboratory for the most extreme physics: the strongest gravity and the most intense of quantum processes. For that reason, physicists are interested in understanding what goes on inside, even while they are frustrated by the lack of direct experiments or observations that could test their ideas. We can’t penetrate the bald event horizon, but that doesn’t mean we know nothing about a black hole’s interior. We’re pretty sure black holes don’t contain a portal to another region of space (a wormhole) or another reality, whatever sci-fi may have told us. Most physicists are also reasonably certain that a full description of the interior of black holes will require quantum gravity, a theory unifying quantum physics and general relativity—or possibly a modified version of our current model of gravity. The full structure of such a theory is unknown, but researchers have some thumbnail sketches about what it might look like.One hybrid approach was put together by Yakov Borisovich Zel’dovich, Jacob Bekenstein, and especially Stephen Hawking. Without a quantum theory of gravity, they used particle physics in combination with general relativity to show that the event horizon has a non-zero temperature and therefore glows, albeit very faintly. This glow is known as Hawking radiation; it arises when partnered particles—one electron and one positron, pairs of photons, etc.—are created in the intense gravitational field. One particle falls into the black hole, while the other escapes. Since the energy from the black hole was the source of the newly created particles’ mass (via E = mc2), the black hole’s mass shrinks slightly with every escaped particle. Unfortunately, the event horizon temperature is low for black holes like the ones we see, so Hawking radiation is correspondingly much fainter than other sources of light. However, if very low-mass black holes exist, they would shine brightly by Hawking radiation, and decay relatively quickly, evaporating away to nothing. Watching such a black hole vanish might help answer the question of whether information is truly lost or just hidden from us by the event horizon. Interestingly, Hawking himself thinks the problem has been solved, at least in principle: Black holes preserve the information they swallow, much as a hologram preserves information about three dimensions even though they are two-dimensional pictures. His hypothesis, based on an idea in string theory, doesn’t yet work in our four-dimensional cosmos (three spatial dimensions plus time), but rather for an abstract, higher-dimensional universe. As a result, not everyone is convinced by Hawking’s demonstration, even if they agree that black holes don’t forget their origins. Hawking radiation presumably consists of all sorts of things, including exotic particles like dark matter and gravitons, which we’ve never seen in the lab. That’s an intriguing notion, though again nature cruelly interferes with our best efforts to study it, by making tiny black holes rare or perhaps nonexistent. We might be able to see Hawking radiation from a larger black hole, but only if it’s not actively feeding on matter and if the hole is very close by. (Another option would be to create a tiny black hole in the lab, but without some new, exotic kind of physics, the necessary energy is beyond our reach.) The nearest known black hole to Earth, which carries the highly memorable name V404 Cygni, is about 8,000 light-years away. While that’s a mere hair’s breadth in cosmic terms, it’s far enough that we can’t study it up close. (For comparison, Voyager 1—the farthest human-built probe—is a little over 17 light-hours away at the time of writing.) The closest supermassive black hole (one that exceeds a 100,000 times the mass of the Sun) is even farther away: 26,000 light-years. That’s the monster at the center of the Milky Way, known as Sagittarius A* (pronounced “A star”). We see black holes like V404 Cygni by the matter surrounding them: Material stripped off companion stars, for example, heats up as it orbits the black hole, emitting strong X-ray and radio radiation. Thanks to high-resolution observations made last year, astronomers have measured swirling gas at very close orbits to the giant black hole in the galaxy M87. And the dance of stars and plasma near Sagittarius A* reveals the presence of the black hole that helps keep our galaxy together. With continued improvements, we’ll be able to get an even better view of black holes, drawing ever closer to the event horizon. Yet nature still hides the mystery of what lies inside a black hole, perhaps forever.

AbstractOne of the most striking manifestations of schizophrenia is thought insertion. People suffering from this delusion believe they are not the author of thoughts which they nevertheless own as experiences. It seems that a person‘s sense of agency and their sense of the boundary between mind and world can come apart. Schizophrenia thus vividly demonstrates that self awareness is a complex construction of the brain. This point is widely appreciated. What is not so widely appreciated is how radically schizophrenia challenges our assumptions about the nature of the self. Most theorists endorse the traditional doctrine of the unity of consciousness, according to which a normal human brain generates a single consciousness at any instant in time. In this paper we argue that phenomenal consciousness at each instant is actually a multiplicity: an aggregate of phenomenal elements, each of which is the product of a distinct consciousness-making mechanism in the brain. We then consider how certain aspects of self might emerge from this manifold substrate, and speculate about the origin of thought insertion.

1. Introduction

Schizophrenia is a complex and heterogeneous disease, incorporating at least three distinct subsyndromes: psycho-motor poverty (poverty of speech, lack of spontaneous movement, blunting of affect), disorganisation (inappropriate affect, disturbances of the form of thought), and reality distortion (Liddle 1987, Johnstone 1991). The reality distortion syndrome encompasses the so called "positive" symptoms of schizophrenia, which include auditory hallucinations, delusions of persecution and delusions of reference. Of these "thought insertion" is arguably the most bizarre. People suffering from this delusion believe that some of the thoughts they experience are not their own:

I look out the window and I think that the garden looks nice and the grass looks cool, but the thoughts of Eammon Andrews come into my mind… He treats my mind like a screen and flashes his thoughts onto it like you flash a picture. (Reported by Mellors 1970, p.17)

To get a feel for how bizarre this is, contrast thought insertion with the experience of hearing voices. The standard explanation of such auditory hallucinations is that the voice the schizophrenic ―hears‖ is actually inner speech which has been mis-identified as emanating from someone else. The error, in this case, is comprehensible: we‘ve all had the experience of being uncertain whether the noise we just heard was real or imagined.[1] Thought insertion, on the other hand, is not a case of mistaking an introspection for a perception. Those who suffer with this delusion are quite aware that the thought has arisen in their own minds. But despite this recognition they still disown it: the thought doesn‘t have any "my-ness" attached to it.Given this symptomatology, it is not surprising that the working presupposition of most current research in this area (and the organising theme of the current volume) is that schizophrenia is, at least in its delusional form, a disease of the self. Despite this focus, what has not been sufficiently appreciated is how radically schizophrenia challenges our assumptions about the nature of the self. Crucial to being a human self is the possession of a certain sort of inner life, one which encompasses a distinction between one‘s own thoughts, feelings, and actions, and the world in which one is embedded. Conventional wisdom has it that this kind of self-consciousness is a unitary faculty, and, moreover, one that is of a piece with phenomenal consciousness in general. However, by demonstrating that it is possible to be aware of the boundaries of one‘s mind without acknowledging that all of the thoughts contained therein are one‘s own, the delusion of thought insertion suggests that this traditional conception of self-consciousness actually conflates two quite distinct capacities.The first is the brain‘s capacity to distinguish its mind from the rest of the world. This capacity produces a sense of subjectivity: an awareness that certain thoughts, perceptions and feelings comprise the mental life of a single psychological subject. The second is the brain‘s capacity to distinguish between self-initiated thoughts and actions, and mental occurrences of which it is merely the passive recipient (e.g., perceptions). This capacity produces a sense of agency: the brain‘s awareness of itself as the source of the thoughts and imaginings that occur within its boundaries. [2] Thought insertion demonstrates that these two capacities can come apart: schizophrenics afflicted with this delusion believe that they are not the agents of some of the thoughts contained within their own minds. From this perspective, schizophrenia would seem to be a disease that undermines a person‘s sense of agency, while leaving their sense of subjectivity intact.The distinction between theses two kinds of self-awareness, and the fact that they can be selectively impaired, means that it is no longer possible to talk of our experience of self as though it were a single, monolithic entity, and hence assume that there must be a single, all-encompassing explanation which does it justice. For example, the facts that explain the brain‘s capacity to draw a distinction between its mind and the world must be different from those which explain its capacity to represent itself as a cognitive agent. Furthermore, because subjects can experience certain thoughts and yet disown any agency in respect of them, the different aspects of selfhood would appear to be achievements over and above the brain‘s capacity to manufacture individual conscious experiences. In schizophrenia, in other words, we have a vivid demonstration that the self is a complex construction of the brain that is to some degree independent of its capacity to generate consciousness.We would go further. We believe that schizophrenia offers a unique window on the cognitive operation of the brain. It reveals a relationship between the structure of consciousness and the brain‘s cognitive machinery that is very different from the conception which has dominated our thinking for centuries. Most theorists in this area, either explicitly or implicitly, endorse the traditional doctrine of the unity of consciousness, according to which a normal (intact) human brain generates a single consciousness at any instant in time (rather than several distinct consciousnesses), and hence a single stream of consciousness over time (rather than parallel tributaries). However, what we know of schizophrenia suggests that, far from being a unity, phenomenal consciousness at each instant is actually a multiplicity: an aggregate of phenomenal elements, each of which is the product of a distinct consciousness-making mechanism in the brain. We will call this, for reasons to be explained shortly, the multi-track model of consciousness, by contrast with the single-track model that is implicit in the doctrine of the unity of consciousness.Our aim in this paper is to make good on these claims. We begin by introducing the multi-track model of consciousness, partly by contrasting it with its more conventional (single-track) counterpart, before considering the evidence for this model. We go on to consider how some aspects of self might emerge from the distributed and manifold substrate of consciousness, and enter into some speculations as to how the failure of this emergence gives rise to the symptoms of schizophrenia.

2. The Multiplicity of Consciousness

Many if not most contemporary theorists working in the field of consciousness studies endorse the doctrine of the unity of consciousness. According to this doctrine, the intact human brain produces a single consciousness at each instant, as opposed to several distinct consciousnesses. Here we argue that this doctrine is mistaken: far from being a unity, phenomenal consciousness is actually a multiplicity. Before proceeding, however, we must provide a clearer picture of what the supposed unity of consciousness entails about the way the brain makes consciousness.2.1 What does the unity of consciousness entail?At the outset let us quickly dispense with a naïve, albeit influential, understanding of the unity of consciousness. Some would have it that consciousness is a unity because it is a serial stream comprising a single informational content at each moment (see, for example, Penrose 1989, p.399). Like a solo chorister, who, by virtue of the limitations of the human vocal folds, can only produce one note at a time, consciousness is taken to be single-voiced or monophonic. This reading of the unity of consciousness can hardly be sustained. Even the most casual inspection of instantaneous conscious experience shows it to contain contents drawn from a number of different modalities. Sound and vision, for example, don‘t compete for a place in awareness; both are simultaneously present. You may not be able to simultaneously react to, or focus on, disparate sources of experience, but the phenomenology they generate can certainly co-occur.If we suppose that consciousness incorporates a number of distinct contentful elements at each instant, then it is best likened to polyphonic choral music. Musical polyphony involves two or more simultaneously active voices, such that at any moment there are a number of different notes being sounded. We think it is safe to say that most theorists regard moment by moment consciousness as informationally polyphonic. However, a question immediately arises for an advocate of the unity of consciousness: If consciousness is polyphonic, in what sense is it a unity? The unity on offer can‘t be the unity of an undifferentiated whole, because, by assumption, experience is actually a composite structure: it is assembled from numerous contentful elements that have been fused together in some way. The polyphony of consciousness entails, therefore, that any proponent of the traditional doctrine of the unity of consciousness is committed to there being a single consciousness-making mechanism or process in the brain, whose task it is to bind these different contents together into a unity. On the one hand, the task of combining multiple representational contents in a single experience must be performed by some physical mechanism or process. And on the other, if we suppose that the brain implements more than one such mechanism or process, then it must be capable of simultaneously generating more than one experience, contrary to the unity doctrine.Given this constraint, there appear to be only two roads open to the advocate of a polyphonic, but unitary consciousness: 1) treat conscious experience as the product of a single, central neural system where informational contents must be re-presented to be made conscious, or 2) opt for a somehow unitary consciousness-making process that acts simultaneously on the brain‘s many distinct information processing sites.A representative example of the former approach is Baars‘ "Global Workspace" model of consciousness (1988, 1997). Baars begins with the premise that the brain contains a multitude of distributed, unconscious processors all operating in parallel, each highly specialised, and all competing for access to a global workspace – a kind of central information exchange for the interaction, coordination, and control of the specialists. Such coordination and control is partly a result of restrictions on access to the global workspace. At any one time only a limited number of specialists can broadcast global messages (via the workspace), since different messages may often be contradictory. Those contents are conscious which gain access to the global workspace (perhaps as a result of a number of specialists forming a coalition and ousting their rivals) and are subsequently broadcast throughout the brain (1988, pp.73-118).In support of this model, Baars claims there is a brain structure suited to the role of workspace, namely: the Extended Reticular-Thalamic Activating System (ERTAS), which includes the reticular formation, the thalamus, and the "diffuse thalamic projection system" (p.124). The ERTAS is particularly suited to the role of "global broadcaster," given the bidirectional projection system that it incorporates. Moreover, there is "evidence of a feedback flow from cortical modules to the ERTAS" and of global information feeding "back into its own input sources." Baars suggests that "[both] kinds of feedback may serve to strengthen and stabilize a coalition of systems that work to keep a certain content on the global workspace." That is, given the competitive nature of access to consciousness, "a circulating flow of information may be necessary to keep some contents in consciousness" (p.134).This kind of model provides an explanation for the unity of consciousness, because the ERTAS acts as an executive composer and broadcaster. Its role is to combine a number of distinct contents hailing from different sense modalities into a single work, which it then broadcasts polyphonically. The unity of consciousness, on this story, is not imposed by the seriality of the stream of contents broadcast (as would be the case with a monophonic executive), but by virtue of there being a single broadcasting mechanism.As to the second route available to the advocate of the unity of consciousness in the face its manifest polyphony, a number of neuroscientists have suggested that distributed time-locked neural oscillations might fit the bill. Consider, for example, Damasio‘s proposal:

The integration of multiple aspects of reality, external as well as internal, in perceptual or recalled experiences, both within each modality and across modalities, depends on the time-locked co-activation of geographically separate sites of neural activity within sensory and motor cortices, rather than on a neural transfer and integration of different representations towards rostral integration sites. The conscious experience of these co-activations depends on their simultaneous, but temporary, enhancement…against the background activity on which other activations are being played out. (1989, p.39)

Damasio here explicitly repudiates the central theatre model, and builds his account around the known parcellation and distribution of information processing in the brain. What brings content-bearing activity to consciousness is its temporary enhancement as a result of time-locked co-activation with contents coded elsewhere in the brain. Time-locking "integrates" contents coded at "geographically separate sites," which are then capable of simultaneously entering consciousness. Time-locked enhancement is thus a candidate for a single consciousness-making process. This putative process occurs simultaneously at many separate sites, and is unitary in virtue of being phase-locked, or falling within a single well defined temporal window of some kind.2.2 Single-track versus multi-track models of consciousnessIt is reasonable to ask whether such approaches to consciousness are the only option. Once it is acknowledged that instantaneous consciousness is polyphonic, and once this fact is considered in the light of the parcellation of information processing in the brain, an alternative way of thinking about the relationship between the structure of consciousness and brain activity clamours for attention. Instead of requiring that the multiple contents of moment by moment experience be re-presented in some central system, or that they be integrated in a single global process, why not suppose that these contents contribute to instantaneous experience via multiple mechanisms of consciousness-making scattered across the brain?We can‘t resist employing another musical metaphor here to clarify this alternative polyphonic model of consciousness and to distinguish it from its more orthodox counterpart (see O‘Brien & Opie 1998). Before the advent of modern studios the only way to record music was to get all the musicians in a room together, place a microphone in their midst, and start up the band. The signal from the microphone would then go through a limited amount of processing before leaving a groove on a wax disc, or more recently, a magnetic trace on a tape. Such a recording is said to be single-track, since there is no way to separate out the individual contributions of the musicians—they are packaged into a single structure. By contrast, on a multi-track recording one or more separate tracks is devoted to each musical instrument. As a result, while all the musical parts combine to make up the total sound during playback, at the level of the recording one can distinguish between them.The polyphonic models surveyed thus far are all single-track theories of consciousness. Whether one treats conscious experience as the product of a single, central neural system where informational contents must be re-presented to be made conscious, as in Baars‘ account, or whether one opts for a unitary consciousness-making process that acts simultaneously on the brain‘s many distinct information processing sites, as in Damasio‘s story, one assumes that at the level at which it is made by the brain, instantaneous consciousness is a single thing. When it comes to consciousness-making, the normal brain has just one track. By contrast, a multi-track theory of consciousness regards instantaneous consciousness as being made up of a number of parallel tracks: a collection of phenomenal elements, each generated by a distinct mechanism in the brain.It might be objected that information in one sensory modality sometimes influences the content of experience in another. A salient example is the McGurk effect, whereby what subjects report hearing is partly determined by what they see. [3] This looks problematic for a multi-track account because the various parts of the polyphonic mix don‘t appear to be truly independent of one another. But the multi-track account is committed only to the claim that the various parts of experience are generated locally, at the very sites where their information contents are fixed. This does not require content-fixations to be completely causally independent of one another. At any given moment there are presumably all sorts of influences, both intra-sensory and inter-sensory, criss-crossing the brain, such that conscious contents not only co-occur, but mutually influence and shape one another. Such causal links are perfectly consistent with the multi-track model, so long as the consciousness-making mechanisms themselves are manifold and localised.The distinction between single-track and multi-track approaches to consciousness is not well-appreciated in the literature. [4] Because of their unquestioning allegiance to the traditional doctrine of the unity of consciousness, most theorists don‘t even entertain the possibility of a multi-track theory. As a result they overlook what we think is a more parsimonious account of consciousness, one that is more consistent with both our moment by moment phenomenal experience and our neuroscientific understanding of the mechanisms subserving cognition. In the next subsection we examine the evidence, both phenomenological and neuroscientific, in favour of this alternative approach to explaining how the brain makes consciousness.2.3 Evidence for the multi-track model of consciousnessConsider, first, the phenomenological evidence. Close attention to instantaneous experience reveals it to be a complex aggregate of many elements. Right now, for example, as you concentrate on these sentences, your phenomenal experience is a very rich, comprising: visual experiences (the shapes, textures and colours of these sentences, together with other objects in the room), auditory experiences (noises from outside the room), tactile experiences (the chair pressing against your body), proprioceptive experiences (the position of your limbs), and understanding experiences (what these words and sentences mean), to name a few. These parts are relatively independent, because they can be altered or lost without substantially affecting the others (try closing your eyes for a moment); like the parallel tracks on a multi-track recording, the loss of any one mode of consciousness merely reduces the total "sound."This independence among the parts of experience is even evident, to some extent, within modalities. Consider the figure below. It can be seen as a flight of stairs in normal orientation, with rear wall uppermost; as an inverted flight of stairs, with front wall uppermost; or even as a flat line drawing, with no perspective. And whichever of these interpretations one adopts, the details of line and colour remain the same. That is, our experience here incorporates not only lines, and regions, but also some abstract phenomenology (a sense of perspective) which is subject to a degree of voluntary control. What is striking here is the looseness of fit between the more abstract and the more concrete parts of experience. It seems that, like a sound engineer, we have some capacity to control which parts go into the mix, and how they will sound.

Figure: Inverting stairs

Although this evidence is suggestive of the multi-track model, it is strictly speaking equivocal where the single-track/multi-track distinction is concerned. The case for multi-track polyphony starts to look quite compelling, however, when these phenomenological data are combined with a range of neuroscientific findings. Neurologists have long studied the experiential consequences of brain injury. They observe complicated patterns of ablation and sparing, both across and within modalities. It is possible, for example, to lose the capacity to visually detect (or experience) motion, while retaining other aspects of visual experience (Zeki 1993, p.82), or to lose colour sensations, while retaining visual form and motion experiences (Sacks 1995, pp.1-38). Phenomenal deficits of this kind are now known to be the result of lesions in specific parts of the brain. Lesion studies have, in fact, been instrumental in establishing the degree and kinds of functional specialisation and localisation in the brain. The picture that is emerging is of a brain which divides and conquers, with broad divisions among modalities and task domains reflected in large-scale anatomical divisions (e.g., primary visual processing in occipital cortex, auditory processing in temporal cortex, planning and working memory in frontal cortex), while more fine-grained functional distinctions are reflected in correspondingly restricted anatomical divisions and loci (e.g, visual motion detection in area V5, colour processing in V4). Other kinds of studies, such as fMRI, PET, micro-electrode and ERP, which are effective over a wide range of spatial and temporal scales, have lately confirmed and enriched this picture with regard to both normal and abnormal function. The following picture emerges: pathological losses of phenomenology are associated with brain lesions at specific sites, while transient but related alterations in experience (caused by changes in input or task demands) are found to co-vary with activity at these same sites. Thus, variations in conscious experience appear to march in lock-step with reproducible, physically localised variations in brain activity, variations, moreover, at brain sites where the relevant informational contents are thought to be encoded. From here it is a short step to the following conclusion: the brain sites that code for particular informational contents are the very sites where those contents are made conscious. Since the contents and associated brain loci are multiple, phenomenal consciousness is multi-track.A further, tantalising, piece of evidence for the multi-track model has recently been discovered by Zeki and Bartels. They discuss experimental work on visual processing that suggests that when the different attributes of a visual scene are presented simultaneously, these attributes are not perceived at the same time. It appears that colour is perceived before orientation, which in turn is perceived before motion, the difference between colour and motion being about 60-80 ms (Bartels & Zeki 1998, p.2329). Experiments in which subjects are asked to pair two rapidly alternating states of two attributes (e.g., a bar with two possible orientations and two possible colours), reveal systematic misbinding of attributes relative to their actual time of occurrence (Zeki & Bartels 1998, p.1583). This suggests to Zeki and Bartels that there are "multiple visual micro-consciousnesses which are asynchronous with respect to each other" (p.1584), which in turns leads them to advocate a multi-track theory: "consciousness is not a unitary faculty, but…consists of many micro-consciousnesses" (Bartels & Zeki 1998, p.2327).The upshot of all this is that the multi-track model of phenomenal consciousness has to be taken quite seriously. It is consistent with the phenomenological and neuroscientific evidence, and doesn‘t succumb to any obvious a priori objections. Rather, this model appears a viable alternative to current single-track orthodoxy.

3. The Emergence of the Self

One area where abandoning the traditional doctrine of the unity of consciousness has major ramifications is in our understanding of the self. Single-track theorists typically explain how the brain constructs a self by deploying exactly the same resources they use to explain the generation of conscious experience. From this perspective, the self and its experiences represent a package deal: the very existence of the latter presupposes the existence of the former. [5] This is part of the "conventional wisdom" to which we alluded in the introduction. But it is wisdom that is put under pressure by the symptoms of schizophrenia. Schizophrenia, in its delusional variant, is a condition that impairs some aspects of self-consciousness while leaving others intact. In particular, sense of agency can come apart from sense of subjectivity. This suggests that the self, when all is well, is a complex entity constructed out of independently conscious parts: a multiplicity, not a unity.In this section we briefly discuss these implications of the multi-track model of consciousness for the nature of the self, and examine some recent speculations about the neurological basis of schizophrenia which support this perspective.According to the multi-track model, conscious experience is not unitary; it is a complex amalgam of co-conscious elements, each generated by a distinct consciousness-making mechanism somewhere in the brain. If one adopts this perspective then it is no longer possible to regard self-consciousness as the product of a centralised workspace, or of a single global process such as time-locked co-activation. Consciousness ceases to be a package deal as far as its neural realisation is concerned — there are as many independent physical loci of consciousness as there are distinct information processing paths in the brain. This means, of course, that our conjectures about the degree of parcellation of self-directed experience are answerable to the neurocomputational facts. But the symptoms of schizophrenia already offer some grounds for expecting there not to be a single neural locus of self and self-consciousness. At a first pass, then, we ought to be wary of the view that the conscious self is physically unitary in the strong sense implied by the doctrine of the unity of consciousness.As it happens, current conjectures about the neural basis of schizophrenia provide a good deal of support for this multi-track perspective on the self. It is widely held that the positive symptoms of schizophrenia are a pathology of agency, involving changes in the consciousness of action (Frith et al 1998, Georgieff & Jeannerod 1999). The leading hypothesis about the physical basis of the disease is that it results from a breakdown in communication among a number of brain regions, including frontal, temporal and cingulate cortices, and various subcortical structures. This lack of integration is thought to be a kind of temporal disconnection syndrome caused by the desynchronisation of numerous widely distributed neural systems (Cleghorn & Albert 1990, Vogeley 1999). Hand in hand with this hypothesis goes a view about the neural basis of self, namely, that it depends on many distinct centres of self-representation within the brain; from cortical regions associated with somatotopic body mapping and action mapping, through regions that function to distinguish between self-initiated and externally caused events (Georgieff & Jeannerod 1998), up to regions such as prefrontal cortex that play a crucial role in organising behaviour. Georgieff and Jeannerod conclude that:

…functions like agency or self-consciousness cannot be mapped on a single localization, even if the involved area seems to fulfill criteria for such a function, in terms of multimodal coding, spatial and temporal integration, etc. The solution to this problem would be to continue further in the direction of fractionating such broad entities as self-construct into more operational elements, and then to relate these elements to specific cortical functions. (1999, Sect. 2.2)

On a view like this, self-consciousness clearly comes out as multi-track, and the changes in sense of agency associated with schizophrenia as failures of integration among distinct self-representing regions, probably caused by their temporal disconnection.But if phenomenal consciousness, and self-consciousness, in particular, are multi-track, what is one to make of the impression most of us have of being a single, integrated subject? Or, to put it more tendentiously: How does a self emerge from the multiplicity of consciousness? This is a difficult question, largely because there are several senses in which one might claim to be a "single subject." Without entering into that murky territory here, we can offer one relatively straightforward answer that is consistent with the multi-track model of consciousness: a self emerges when the multiple tracks of self-directed experience produced by the brain are sufficiently representationally coherent. [6] Representational coherence concerns the way the various contents of experience relate to each other. In normal circumstances we don‘t experience a ―blooming, buzzing confusion‖, but a structured world of discrete objects arrayed in space, a world in which events unfold in a regular, law-like way, and in which informational contents fall into meaningful spatiotemporal patterns. This registration of contents, which is both intra-modal (e.g., colour and form) and inter-modal (e.g., the registration of proprioceptive, auditory and visual contents as one types on a keyboard), also occurs at the level of specifically self-directed representations. Thus, I typically recognise an action as mine as I perform it, am aware of how it fits with my plans, and discover how it affect things about me (and vice versa), all in a real-time, rapidly up-dated feedback cycle.Representational coherence is not an invariable feature of conscious experience—it is a hard-won computational achievement, as demonstrated by the many cases (often the result of trauma) in which the brain fails to produce an integrated model of the world. [7] The emergence of a self therefore presumably depends on some mechanism that acts to bring the multiple, locally generated contents of conscious experience into register with one another. In particular, such a mechanism must render coherent the multiple streams of self-representation upon which so much of our behaviour depends. A promising manoeuvre for the multi-track theorist is to appropriate one of the neural mechanisms/processes that single-track theorists deploy to explain the production of consciousness, and redeploy it in the new role of explaining the brain‘s construction of a self. For example, the multi-track theorist might focus on the ERTAS as a neural structure likely to be involved in global communication and integration, as does Baars, but treat it as a self-maker, rather than a consciousness-maker.If we adopt this proposal then it is possible to regard instantaneous consciousness as a multiplicity, rather than a unity, and yet still claim that it is "unified." The sense in which consciousness is "unified" is not a matter of oneness, but a matter of representational coherence. Such coherence, perhaps courtesy of the ERTAS (cortico-cortical circuits may play a role too), goes some way towards explaining how a self emerges from the multiple strands of representational activity in the brain. This proposal is attractive in the current context because it is reasonable to conjecture that schizophrenia is a disease which impairs the capacity of consciousness-making mechanisms to produce a coherent set of experiences. Instead, possibly as a result of desynchronisation, these mechanisms operate in an autonomous fashion, producing experiences whose contents are disconnected and discontinuous with one another. This gives rise to the familiar symptoms of schizophrenia. In the case of delusions of thought insertion, for example, it is precisely because one part of the brain generates a thought that is representationally discontinuous with mental contents being produced elsewhere that the patient judges it to be alien, and hence disowns it. What we see here is a partial disintegration of the self, but not in the sense of the self failing to be a single thing—on the multi-track view it was never that in the first place—rather, in the sense that the many self-directed representations produced by the brain no longer hang together as a coherent system.We finish with a word of caution. Although representational coherence may play a pivotal role in the emergence of our sense of agency, it is not clear that it can account for what we earlier termed our "sense of subjectivity." Schizophrenics and others who suffer quite radical breakdowns in the connectedness and continuity of their experience generally have no doubt that these anomalous experiences belong to them (see above). The representational incoherence of the parts of experience doesn‘t appear to undermine the phenomenal "togetherness" that characterises a single subject of experience. A multi-track theorist must therefore appeal to a different set of resources to account for this feature of consciousness. One possibility is that such subject unity depends on some feature of brain organization more basic than that which is responsible for representational coherence. For example, the very causal connectedness of the brain as a whole, which is such that a signal can pass from any part of the brain to any other via no more than half a dozen synapses, might be the physical basis of subject unity—even under conditions where representational coherence has broken down. The detailed working out of this proposal is, however, a task we must leave for another time.

Notes

1. There is evidence, however, that many of the delusions classified as verbal hallucinations are much closer in their phenomenology to thought insertion. See Graham & Stephens 1994, pp.94-97.2. The distinction between subjectivity and agency is nicely developed in Graham & Stephens 1994.3. See McGurk & MacDonald 1976. We owe this example to Tim Bayne. For Bayne‘s critique of the multi-track model, and our reply, see Bayne 2000 and O‘Brien & Opie 2000, respectively.4. The only other place we have seen this distinction explicitly drawn is in a recent discussion of consciousness by Searle (2000). Searle distinguishes between what he calls the unified field approach (single-track model) and the building block approach (multi-track model). Having said that, Damasio shows himself to be alive to the possibility of a multi-track theory (see his 1999, esp.pp.123-4 and pp.165-6)5. See, for example, Damasio 1999.6. We use the word ‗sufficiently‘ in this characterisation advisedly, since it renders selfhood a matter of degree. We regard this as a strength of the proposal.7. To take a single example, subjects recovering from damage to striate cortex sometimes have quite peculiar visual phenomenology as the visual elements that are normally bound individually "reappear":

At first the patient will see pure motion (usually rotary) without any form or colour. Then brightness perception returns as a pure Ganzfield – a uniform brightness covering the whole visual field. When colours develop they do so in the form of ‗space‘ or ‗film‘ colours not attached to objects. The latter develop as fragments which join together and eventually the colours enter their objects to complete the construction of the phenomenal object. (Smythies 1994, p.313)

Normal integration of colour and form to produce coherent objects is initially absent here. Schizophrenia likewise results from an inability to integrate distinct informational contents, but at the level of self-consciousness, such that self-initiated actions or thoughts fail to be recognised as one‘s own.

The conference focuses its attention on craving, desire, and addiction,
as these are among the most pressing causes of human suffering. By
bringing contemplative practitioners and scholars from Buddhist and
Christian traditions together with a broad array of scientific
researchers in the fields of desire and addiction, hopefully new
understandings will arise that may ultimately lead to improved treatment
of the root causes of craving and its many manifestations.

Here are the list and associations of this year's participants:

TENZIN GYATSO, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama

KENT BERRIDGE, PHD, James Olds Collegiate Professor of Psychology and Neuroscience, Department of Psychology, University of Michigan

Bruce Hood, Galen Strawson, Marya Schechtman. Hilary Lawson hosts. We all create internal narratives of our lives. From moment to moment, but also spanning a lifetime. Do these stories of ourselves simply reflect our lives, or do they determine who we are and what we can achieve?The Panel Philosopher of personal identity Marya Schechtman joins award-winning experimental psychologist Bruce Hood and critic and philosopher Galen Strawson.

In early 1920, posters began appearing all over Berlin with a hypnotic spiral and the mysterious command Du musst Caligari werden — “You must become Caligari.” The posters were part of an innovative advertising campaign for an upcoming movie by Robert Wiene called The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. When the film appeared, audiences were mesmerized by Wiene’s surreal tale of mystery and horror. Almost a century later, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is still celebrated for its rare blending of lowbrow entertainment and avant-garde art. It is frequently cited as the quintessential cinematic example of German Expressionism, with its distorted perspectives and pervasive sense of dread.

Like many nightmares, Caligari had its origin in real-life events. Screenwriter Hans Janowitz had been walking late one night through a fair in Hamburg’s red-light district when he heard laughter. Turning, he saw an attractive young woman disappear behind some bushes in a park. A short time later a man emerged from the shadows and walked away. The next morning, Janowitz read in the newspapers that a young woman matching the description of the one he had seen had been murdered overnight at that very location. Haunted by the incident, Janowitz told the story to fellow writer Carl Mayer. Together they set to work writing a screenplay based on the incident, drawing also on Mayer’s unsettling experience with a psychiatrist. They imagined a strange, bespectacled man named Dr. Caligari who arrives in a small town to demonstrate his powers of hypnotism over Cesare, a sleep walker, at the local fair. A series of mysterious murders follows. Janowitz and Mayer sold their screenplay to Erich Pommer at Decla-Film. Pommer at first wanted Fritz Lang to direct the film, but Lang was busy with another project, so he gave the job to Wiene. One of the most critical decisions Pommer made was to hire Expressionist art director Hermann Warm to design the production, along with painters Walter Reimann and Walter Röhrig. As R. Barton Palmer writes at Film Reference:

The principle of Warm’s conception is the Expressionist notion of Ballung, that crystallization of the inner reality of objects, concepts, and people through an artistic expression that cuts through and discards a false exterior. Warm’s sets for the film correspondingly evoke the twists and turnings of a small German medieval town, but in a patently unrealistic fashion (e.g., streets cut across one another at impossible angles and paths are impossibly steep). The roofs that Cesare the somnambulist crosses during his nighttime depredations rise at unlikely angles to one another, yet still afford him passage so that he can reach his victims. In other words, the world of Caligari remains “real” in the sense that it is not offered as an alternative one to what actually exists. On the contrary, Warm’s design is meant to evoke the essence of German social life, offering a penetrating critique of semiofficial authority (the psychiatrist) that is softened by the addition of a framing story. As a practicing artist with a deep commitment to the political and intellectual program of Expressionism, Warm was the ideal technician to do the art design for the film, which bears out Warm’s famous manifesto that “the cinema image must become an engraving.”

The screenwriters were disappointed with Wiene’s decision to frame the story as a flashback told by a patient in a psychiatric hospital. Janowitz, in particular, had meant Caligari to be an indictment of the German government that had recently sent millions of men to kill or be killed in the trenches of World War I. “While the original story exposed authority,” writes Siegfried Kracauer in From Caligari to Hitler: A Psychological History of the German Film, “Wiene’s Caligari glorified authority and convicted its antagonist of madness. A revolutionary film was thus turned into a conformist one — following the much-used pattern of declaring some normal but troublesome individual insane and sending him to a lunatic asylum.” In a purely cinematic sense, of course, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari remains a revolutionary work. You can watch the complete film above, made from a 35mm print restored by the Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv of Germany and featuring the original color tinting.

'The Paleo Manifesto' by John Durant John Durant, one of the first proponents of living like a hunter-gatherer, has written the rules of the lifestyle he's been advocating for years. In his new book, as you might expect, he calls for a meat-heavy diet but also argues for occasional fasting, getting standing desks, sleeping a lot, and swimming in icy water. Durant's research piles on the studies and the opinions of experts who look at the weight-loss diets of captive gorillas and sleep habits of astronauts, making a compelling argument for the paleo movement. – Tyghe Trimble

In The Paleo Manifesto: Ancient Wisdom for Lifelong Health, John Durant argues for an evolutionary -- and revolutionary -- approach to health. All animals, human or otherwise, thrive when they mimic key elements of life in their natural habitat. From diet to movement to sleep, this evolutionary perspective sheds light on some of our most pressing health concerns. What is causing the rise of chronic conditions, such as obesity, diabetes, and depression? Is eating red meat going to kill you? Is avoiding the sun actually the best way to avoid skin cancer?Durant takes readers on a thrilling ride to the Paleolithic and beyond, unlocking the health secrets of our ancient ancestors. What do obese gorillas teach us about weight loss? How can Paleolithic skulls contain beautiful sets of teeth? Why is the Bible so obsessed with hygiene? What do NASA astronauts teach us about getting a good night's sleep? And how are Silicon Valley techies hacking the human body?Blending science and culture, anthropology and philosophy, John Durant distills the lessons from his adventures and shows how to apply them to day-to-day life, teaching people how to construct their own personal "habitat" that will enable them to thrive. The book doesn't just address what we eat, but why we eat it; not just how to exercise, but the purpose of functional movement; not just being healthy, but leading a purposeful life.Combining the best of ancient wisdom with cutting edge science, Durant crafts a vision of health that is both fresh and futuristic.

Mind and Life XXVII - Craving, Desire, and Addiction from Dharamsala, India on October 28 - November 1, 2013.The conference focuses its attention on craving, desire, and addiction, as these are among the most pressing causes of human suffering. By bringing contemplative practitioners and scholars from Buddhist and Christian traditions together with a broad array of scientific researchers in the fields of desire and addiction, hopefully new understandings will arise that may ultimately lead to improved treatment of the root causes of craving and its many manifestations.Day One - October 28: The Problem of Craving and AddictionMorning Session: Introductory remarksAfternoon sessions: The Role of Craving in the Cycle of Addictive BehaviorDay Two - October 29: Cognitive and Buddhist TheoryMorning session: Brain Generators of Intense Wanting and LikingAfternoon session: Psychology of Desire, Craving, and Action: A Buddhist PerspectiveDay Three - October 30: Biological and Cultural ViewsMorning Session: The Role of Dopamine in the Addicted Human BrainAfternoon Session: Beyond the Individual - The Role of Society and Culture in AddictionDay Four - October 31: Contemplative PerspectivesMorning Session: From Craving to Freedom and Flourishing: Buddhist Perspectives on DesireAfternoon Session: Contemplative Christianity, Desire, and AddictionDay Five - November 1: Into the WorldMorning Session: Application of Contemplative Practices in Treatment of AddictionAfternoon Session: Concluding Remarks

George Lakoff has been teaching cognitive science and linguistics at UC Berkeley for more than 40 years. He is the author of several highly influential books in linguistics and in embodied cognition - and how those two fields are incredibly intertwined. He also has written extensively on language, values, and politics.

Latest talk at the Central European University on his neural theory.George Lakoff is Richard and Rhoda Goldman Distinguished Professor of Cognitive Science and Linguistics at the University of California at Berkeley, where he has taught since 1972.

When people and circumstances upset us, how do we deal with them? Often, we feel victimized. We become hurt, angry, and defensive. We end up seeing others as enemies, and when things don’t go our way, we become enemies to ourselves.

But what if we could move past this pain, anger, and defensiveness?

Inspired by Buddhist philosophy, this book introduces us to the four kinds of enemies we encounter in life: the outer enemy, people, institutions, and situations that mean to harm us; the inner enemy, anger, hatred, fear, and other destructive emotions; the secret enemy, self-obsession that isolates us from others; and the super-secret enemy, deep-seated self-loathing that prevents us from finding inner freedom and true happiness.In this practical guide, we learn not only how to identify our enemies, but more important, how to transform our relationship to them. Love Your Enemies teaches us how to . . .

break free from the mode of “us” versus “them” thinking

develop compassion, patience, and love

accept what is beyond our control

embrace lovingkindness, right speech, and other core concepts

Throughout, authors Sharon Salzberg and Robert Thurman share stories and exercises for achieving finding peace within yourself and with the world. Drawing from ancient spiritual wisdom and modern psychology, Love Your Enemies presents tools that are useful for all readers.